Wounded
by The Nagisa Thesis
Summary: This. REALLY. Sucks. The beginning turns out good, but as time moves on and I get sleepier, it starts to suck. BADLY. I wont give away the pairing. Try to figger out who it is! ^.^


A/N: I don't wanna say anything….I don't wanna give it away….I'll just say it's from an onlooker's perspective, at one of Matt's concerts.No, I will not say who the onlooker is.JUST READ. 

^_^; Yes, I like suspense.Anyways, I don't own Digimon.So blah.

Flames will be used to fire up the barbie and roast Biyo-kebabs.And away we go! ^.^

# 

# Wounded

As I watch him there on the stage, I can feel a smile tugging at my lips.He's so graceful, the way he strums his guitar and sidles up to the microphone.Have you ever seen him sing into a microphone?It's amazing; he's like a gentle lover to it.He makes love to his music.

My cheeks flush at the thought.From my position leaning over the railing, I watch him take a step towards the mic as the music starts up softly, a light pinging sound in the background, with the heavy thud of the drums like thunder in the distance.

His slender, gentle fingers wind around the microphone and he cradles it, like a child, and looks up at my perch, high atop the stadium.He can see me.

He starts singing.

My breath stops and my heart fails me for a moment.

_"The guy who put his hands on you_

_Has got nothing to do with me."_

I smile slightly and make a tiny groaning sound, yet it's muted by the music.

_"And the bruises that you feel will heal,_

_And I hope you'll come around._

_Cause we're missing you."_

I shift uncomfortably in my black sweater, pulling the cuffs over my hands and clutching at the hem.He's singing about me.He's telling me about my foolish mistakes; he's looking into my heart and I'm not sure I like it.

I promised him I would come to his concert.How could I say no?His lips, his eyes, his touch; all so very persuasive.

But I've been avoiding the others all night.I wonder if they're scanning the crowd for me?

Well, that's why I'm wearing all black, now isn't it?

_"You used to speak so easy,_

_Now you're afraid to talk to me."_

I stuttered.He asked me what was wrong and I stuttered.He reached out to me.He touched my hair.He pulled me into a hug and, damn him, he made me confess.I told him everything: about the guy that had taken my heart and torn it to pieces, about the other girl, and how he went about breaking my spirit and leaving me feeling used.

And he told me it was alright.He never shunned me.I love that about him.

_"It's like walking with the wounded._

_Carrying that weight way too far,_

_The concrete pulled you down so far,_

_Out there with the wounded."_

My burdens were my burdens, I never asked him to interfere.Yet he insisted.He helped me through it.

Nobody has ever, ever helped me through anything.They always automatically assume because of my strong, lively personality, that I'm indestructible.

Yamato saw through me like I was glass.He knew I was fragile, and that's what scared me about being near him.If he knew I was this delicate, he could easily break me.But something deep inside told me he never would.

_"We're missing you._

_Well I never claimed to understand_

_What happens after dark,"_

I groan softly at the memory of my brief relationship with Joseph.Whatever possessed me to stay with that bastard, anyway?My hands cover my face and I sigh.The force of his slaps still echo in my brain like the crack of a whip.They sting my face even now.

How badly did I have to trick myself into believing that he was really the only one person in this world that would love me?If only I had known, I wouldn't be feeling this pain.

Could Yamato's words really bring back my soul?Could his music soothe me?

God if that's what he was aiming for, it was working…

I pull my hands from my face and look down upon him.He's looking up at me with azure eyes that glimmer like midnight stars.

_"But my fingers catch the sparks at the thought of_

_Touching you…"_

I can see his fingers twitch slightly as they release their hold on the mic and take immediate positions on the guitar.As he speaks those words I sense my own fingers convulse at the thought of his skin.They pulse and burn and throb, and I have to look away.

Get over it, you've just had your heart destroyed by some jerk and you're already accepting Matt's advances?

I turn back to look at him.

_"When you're wounded."_

The music picks up with strong bass and overwhelming riffs.It washes over me and crashes against me like a tide on the beach. Me…?Wounded…?

_"Let me break it down till I force the issue_

_We miss your face and you know I wish you_

_Would come back down to the Delva Bar_

_You tell them 'That's just my battle scar'"_

I smile.That's me, alright.The tough one.I take my scars, I play the game and I play it hard.I run and pounce and fight and win, right?

Wrong.I could trace my fingertips down each scar I've accumulated from sports or digiworld or stuff like that, but the internal scars…

They wont fade.They linger there on my mind like burns that sever me from human contact.They hurt, far more than any cut or bruise.

_"I want to kiss you,_

_And knock 'em down like we used to_

_You're the Marigold"_

My head snaps up as I peer down to look at him.I can feel his gaze, intent upon me.He's smiling.Delicately enough, he's smiling.

Joseph had kissed me.Roughly.He had grabbed my face and kissed me forcefully.I was too desperate for affection to fight back.

Joseph was rough and cold, Matt was warm and calming.The way he gathered me in his arms was amazing, like he was pulling my life together and picking it up.He was gentle.His kiss…

Would be divine….

When we were children I was strong.I was brave and confident.Together we conquered worlds.I always thought he was just my friend, but never before had I seen him so tender.

In him I was born anew.I was a whole different person.

_"Till you're walking down shakin that ass again,_

_Then you walk on, baby, walk on, you walk on."_

I laugh and cover my face with my hand.How typical of him to break down the seriousness of anything with a joke?I pull my hand away and lean against the railing.He's smiling and strumming, looking up at me.

His words touch my soul and stir my mind.

_"You're an angel in the pit with her hands in the air_

_And we're missing you._

_Now it's fall and your shoulders get tighter,_

_Nervous flicks on the lighter,_

_Boots, your pissed off poets,_

_Your women's groups."_

I shift in my black attire.I've become more brooding lately, I'm not sure why.Maybe its because black was how I felt, I don't know.

_"And your friends with you,_

_We should have known this fool._

_Well I guess we missed the mark."_

Why didn't I tell anybody that Joseph was hurting me?Was it because I thought nobody would believe me?Or was I just scared to admit that I was getting smacked around by my boyfriend?I should have told Matt before it was too late, when he could have done something.When his words would have mattered more.Not like they didn't matter now, it's just I need more than words right now.

I needed something.

_"Still my fingers catch the sparks at the thought of_

_Them touching you._

_Now you're wounded."_

My fingertips.They throb with the pulse inside of them, they burn and itch and drive me crazy.It's like the angel's in reach, but I can't feel it there.I have to pull my hands into my sleeves again, looking down at them.

I am.

"I'm wounded…" I murmur.

_"Let me break it down till I force the issue, _

_You never come around and you know we miss you."_

The concert ends, and like I was told to do, I wait by the backstage entrance.It's silent.The air is cool, but not cold, and I feel myself shiver in my light coat.

The door opens, and there like the silhouette of a saviour, is Yamato Ishida.

"Waiting long?" he asks.I shake my head no, and he nods.We walk towards his apartment.

_"Well nobody took your pride away,_

_That's something people say."_

_ _

In the silence I feel worthless.I'm too meek to speak, for fear of being ignored.So I do not bother.

Matt reaches out and touches my shoulder, and I turn to smile at him.

No, no words are needed now.I bask in his comfort like moonlight.I know he does not think any less of me, and I am thankful.For the first time, I feel something like love.

We reach his apartment, and turn to stare at eachother for a moment.He smiles, I blush.Then, like fluid motion, his hand flies up to gently stroke my cheek.

I know now what I've needed.

Our faces near.My heart races, our lips touch.

I know now what I've always needed.

The world ends.

_ _

_"Back down the bully to the back of the bus,_

_Cuz it's time for them to be scared of us."_

His hands are holding my back, my fingers are in his hair, and our lips are against one-another.He pulls away; I push forward, so does he.He pulls back and gasps.

"My dad's working late at the station."

His breath is hot and trembling against my face.

I don't need a literal translation.I nod and pull him towards me once more.

_"Till you're yelling how we're living cuz you got the ball,_

_Then you rock on baby, rock on, you rock on."_

The door closes and suddenly I'm up against the wall.It's not rough though, his embrace is gentle and his mouth, however wandering, is sincere.He looks up at me with fever in his blue eyes, now a brilliant midnight.

"Ai shiteru." He gasps, and silences me with a kiss before I can reply.

_"You're a summer-time hottie with her socks in the air,_

_Screaming 'I don't care baby, I don't care'."_

_ _

I throw my black sweater carelessly to one side and he pushes me down against the bed.Our mouths meet one another, and as he holds my squirming body down, itching with impatience, I look up into thin air.

Always what I've wanted.

And it crashes against me like a wave.

_"You say you don't know,_

_You say you can't grow,_

_All I know is we're missing you."_

"Don't close your eyes…" he whispers into my ear.I turn my face and open my eyes.With one hand he cups my cheek and keeps my gaze as he pushes against me again, and it's all I can do to keep from screaming in his ear.

"I love you."

He says it over and over again, but I can't get enough.He holds my hand and I lock my fingers with his, pushing it against the pillows above our heads in his bed.I gasp for air.

## "Say it….say it again that you…-"

I can't finish, everything ends in a blaze of stars and colors and we collapse into a trembling, aching heap of limps and sweat and gasps for air.

_"You're the Marigold."_

I curl into his arms and sigh deeply.Memories of the night are like black water on my body; dark yet never oppressing.Joseph could never love me.It took somebody like Yamato to show me exactly what my body and soul had craved through the abuse and the heartache.

"Ai shiteru…Taichi…" he sighs.My arms wind around his stomach and I take a deep breathe in of his sweet aroma.Like the seashore, like musk, like life itself.

"Ai shiteru, Yamato…" I whisper in return and close my eyes.Sleep looms like a shadow above me.

Yet I do not fear the darkness.I live on, with fatal wounds.

_"Show up wounded."_

~***~

Closing Comments:HAH!!!It was a Yamachi.Was it hard to imagine Tai as the wounded?I want feedback!I live for feedback!PLEASE!!!Anyway, the song "Wounded" belongs to a lovely little band called Third Eye Blind.It's a terrific song!THIS FIC SUCKS.Thank you and goodnight…*falls off chair*


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